Yes, Facing the Executioner Would Be Easier
by ceirdwenfc
Summary: This is a gift for thanfiction. This is daydverse. Takes place in 2002.


Hannah hesitated at the large white door. She stared at it, taking in every detail of the worn wood; every crack in the paint, uncleaned bird droppings. She would rather scrub the floors of The Leaky Cauldron with her toothbrush than attend this meeting. She had been summoned to Willow Creek a few days ago and had managed to postpone it and procrastinate and even missed the original date requested when the pipes burst at The Leaky, which perhaps could have been prevented if her wand hadn't _accidentally_ poked at the u-joint while she was distracted by the beginning of the bar brawl, but all of that was inconsequential. She was here now.

She was still staring at the door and finally just about to grasp the knocker when it was propelled open with such force that Hannah almost fell in. Her gaze moved downward, revealing the house elf whose scowl was so very close to Gran's that Hannah thought it _was_ Gran for a moment, only on her hands and knees. She almost laughed and would have if she didn't feel more like throwing up. She took a deep breath.

"Good morning, Mimsy."

"Miss."

"Mrs. Longbottom is expecting me?" She shouldn't have asked it as a question-it changed the balance of power, but the inflection in her voice was involuntary and her nerves had already begun to set in. Why Neville couldn't be here for this she didn't understand and she almost resented him for it. She didn't mind his shrug and the relieved look on his face as much as his Apparation, which occurred a little too quickly for her tastes.

Mimsy stepped aside, implying by the space she opened that Hannah should enter, contempt clear in her voice. "She was expecting you days ago, Miss."

Hannah ignored the barb, knowing that her response would only illicit more. _Was marrying Neville Longbottom worth this?_ Yes. She didn't even need to ask and so she followed Mimsy down the long hallway to Gran's study.

Mimsy left Hannah out in the hall, door ajar and announced her presence. "The Pub Trollop is _finally_ here, Madam."

Hannah's cheeks colored, but it only made her more determined that Gran Longbottom, despite her overbearing, tough, in charge manner, would not hijack _her_ wedding. Absolutely not! This was hers and Neville's special day and she would make the decisions. All of them. She would not be railroaded into anything she didn't want. She would put her foot down. She almost laughed at that. Even in her mind, she self-edited 'fucking foot down' to the milder. What was it about this house that made her revert to a three year old?

She couldn't hear Gran's response, but she felt the warmth of embarrassment. Not from her work at The Leaky, but she hated that Neville's family disliked her and wondered how they'd live their lives with each other and eventually children in that kind of hostility. She had seen briefly what Susan went through with the Macmillans, the only thing changing Duncan's attitude towards her being Ernie's death. That was not an option for her and Neville.

She collected herself quickly, hoping her flush was gone before she entered the chilly room. She was still craning and twisting her neck sideways and backways to release some of the tension gathering there when the door opened. Hannah avoided Mimsy's disagreeable look and was surprised, as she always was, to find the room so bright. She constantly expected the Longbottom house to be dark and unwelcoming just like she was made to feel every time she entered, but it was bright, curtains drawn open, sunlight streaming in, with the smell of newly cut flowers on the desk. She actually loved this study (when it was empty) and for a moment felt at home.

Then Gran stood and turned to face her. She was so tall; and not just tall, but she seemed broader, able to reach each side of the room simultaneously with the tips of her fingers. Her vulture hat sat on a bodyless head on the desk next to the vase and seemed strangely at home there. Gran seemed no smaller without the huge millinery. Hannah knew she was a large woman, but she was also larger than life, and it was easy to be intimidated by that. It was moments like these when she truly missed her mother the most. Her mother was supposed to help with this- the planning of her wedding to the man she loved. Her mother was supposed to suggest flowers and cake flavors and bake and sew her dress. She was supposed to go shopping and sit around the kitchen table that Hannah had grown up breakfasting at, drinking coffee and talking about Neville and their future; their children and bring curtains for her own kitchen and babysit her grandchildren. Her mother was supposed to protect her from the evil (grand)mother-in-law, but the Death Eaters changed all that.

She kept her hands still, but felt the orchid suspended in a bubble bounce once on her neck with her step over the threshold as if it knew she needed the reassurance; the Hannahenamorata, created and named for her in love. All at once it reminded her of Neville and flowers and beauty and peace.

The sudden coolness on her neck of the metal chain changing position put a small smile on her lips to greet her soon to be in-law; the woman who ticked off every in-law-stereotype box there was.

"It's lovely to see you again, Hannah. Please be seated. Tea?" Her speech was crisp and proper and down to business at once as she deftly moved them away from the desk and the light into the darker side of the room where there was a seating area of small sofas and a table already covered in a tea service with finger sandwiches and biscuits.

Hannah nodded, complying with the request to be seated; knowing the question was simple etiquette and not warmth. Or a request.

She rested one biscuit on her knee and took the tea when offered, burning her tongue as she let too much of the hot liquid in at once. She kept her smile pasted onto her face when Gran sat down across from her. Gran left her tea cup untouched, using her wand to summon a small bit of parchment and self-inking quill, which immediately began to scrawl some words and underline them when she began to speak.

"Now, dear, about this wedding. We'll need -"

The quill paused and did not take down Hannah's words when, no less surprised than Gran was, she interrupted. "Why do you call me that?"

"Call you…." Gran seemed to be thinking, then finished, "call you dear, dear?"

"No." Hannah watched the immobile quill for a moment longer before turning her gaze back to Gran, who hadn't looked away. She knew this was The Moment. If she backed down now, she would back down in every kind of conflict for a lifetime. This was her time to show Gran who she really was; who Neville saw when she caught him watching her out of the corner of her eye; the woman who would be the DA Commander's wife and partner. "No, Mrs. Longbottom. Pub Trollop. You call me Pub Trollop. Why do you do that? Why do you dislike me?"

Inside, Hannah was shaking. Difficult questions are difficult for a reason. Her shaking wasn't an indication of cowardice. The contrary, in fact. Being able to ask the question and hoping you can handle the answer and being scared and nervous is not the same thing as walking away from asking the question, but as Gran kept scrutinizing Hannah and their eyes locked, she became stronger and somewhat peaceful as her breathing steadied with her growing confidence. There was actually less tension between them; not more, and Hannah waited patiently for Gran to compose her answer. Not that Gran was ever not composed, but for the moment she was thoughtful and in never looking away, Hannah surprisingly did not feel intimidated or cowed by it.

Gran waved her hand absently at the parchment and quill, which promptly floated to rest on the seat beside her and finally took a long drink of her tea.

"I don't dislike you at all. At first, Hannah, it was merely a slip of the tongue. You work in the pub. You'll run it one day, but entrepreneur doesn't exactly roll easily. It's a name from another generation, meant to dishonor a woman doing a man's job; to demean. Women are used to that sort of thing. I certainly got my share of it as the only female Auror. Sometimes, we embrace it, but more often than not, we ignore it. Even today, we use it, or words like it, to denigrate one another when there's a competition or a dislike or a point to be made, and we never think of how it not only hurts the woman it's directed at, but how it hurts Women by shaming them all. As I said, I lived through it, and I should have known better. I do know better. However, sometimes these latent thoughts that we've been ingrained to believe still come out. We often try to cut the things down that we feel threatened by. As much as I know the reality and am so very proud of Neville as he's grown into an independent man, losing the part that I've grown attached to all these years is not something that I look forward to. I do apologize to you for that."

The tea cup in Hannah's hand rattled slightly and she set it on her other knee to stop the sound. She could not recall Neville's grandmother apologizing for anything. Not in the entire time she knew her. She managed to stammer out, "Thank you for that, Mrs. Longbottom, but I won't take Neville away from his family."

"Call me Gran."

Hannah nearly dropped the cup now. She kept her voice steady and the formality of her response helped that. "Yes, I will. Thank you."

"Of course you will. Boys will always leave their mothers for their wives. He's all I have left of my only son and I want him to stay."

Gran continued. "After that first time, I said it in front of Neville. And he ignored it. And so I kept at it until one day, he said something. He stood up to me. He defended you. And when he did that, I knew that he loved you enough, not simply to stand up for you, but to stand up _to_ me in order to do it, regardless of the consequences. I will discontinue the practice. I will be sure that Mimsy gets the memo as it were and follows suit."

They both took long drinks and Hannah popped the entire biscuit into her mouth, the vibrant lemon flavor bursting through. She knew that Gran was still talking and the quill was scribbling, but Hannah was somewhat lost in thought bombarded with her feelings of being unwanted by Neville's family; well, by Gran. She was the only one who had ever given an opinion and she did that with her looks and her distance and her Pub Trollops, which Hannah was secretly ecstatic that it would now end. She had been positive that Gran disliked her and now it seemed that she had been wrong about the woman who was so unlike anyone in her own family that she didn't know what to make of the change in Gran's comportment now. Hannah was not so lost in thought that her eyes cleared and she focused on Gran's hands that were so much more energetic than she'd ever seen before when she broke the silence again.

"Now, the wedding. It's not until next year, but it is always sooner than you think. Have you put any thought into it?"

Hannah laughed and it only sounded strange in this house for a moment. "Only since I was six!"

"You could have it here if you like. Or Blackpool?"

After a miniscule hesitation, Hannah said definitively, "No. I appreciate the offer, Mrs., sorry, Gran, but I'd like to be married in my mother's garden. She loved her garden and it would be as close as I can have to her being there with me. I miss her terribly. Would that be all right?"

Gran nodded. "Of course, dear. It's your wedding after all; you get to make all those decisions. Your mother's garden-that's a lovely idea. Have you given any thought to a dress? There are many worthy designers who we can invite them here for you to have a look. Although…"

Hannah's ears perked up at the thought of dress shopping, and watched as Gran's face turned from practical to wistful and then back again.

"Would you like to see Alice's dress? I daresay she would have loved the idea of Neville's bride wearing it and as different as you are from dear Alice, it would look lovely on your figure."

Hannah was taken aback at Gran's sudden warmth. She nodded forcefully, "Oh yes, I'd love to see his mother's wedding dress. I had also been wondering, is it possible for them to be there for the wedding?" Gran nodded and Hannah moved to the edge of her seat to confer about the wedding plans. Tears began to well in the corners of her eyes, but she shook them away. If Gran could show warmth, Hannah would show strength.


End file.
